


Looks Like Christmas

by Wordsy



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Multi, Secret Santa, can be read as shipping or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsy/pseuds/Wordsy
Summary: It all started when York looked out the observation deck at the snowy expanse of Sidewinder and said it looked like Christmas.
Or; Wash, Connie, and Maine have an impromptu Christmas and play in the snow





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for this-is-such-a-bad-decision on Tumblr, who requested Christmas fluff for the Red vs Blue Secret Santa 2016. Enjoy!

It all started when York looked out the observation deck at the snowy expanse of Sidewinder and said it looked like Christmas.

After that there was no stopping it.

It could be hard to keep track of time in the vastness of the pitch black void called space. The dimming of cabin lights mimicked the rise and fall of the sun, but even that meant little to the schedule of a Freelancer.

For example, between missions, training, and briefings; breakfast, lunch, and dinner were all replaced with ‘meal time.’ Your dinner might be another soldier’s breakfast, but that didn’t mean anything. Whether you were going to bed or just waking up, made no difference – just that you happened to have an overlapping meal time amidst the constant bustle of life aboard the Mother of Invention.

Keeping track of days as they turned into months was even worse. Simply put, you didn’t. The position of one star in relation to one planet millions of miles away had no use out here. At least, that was the Director’s stance on the matter. Scientifically, it made sense. But it didn’t make the utter and complete lack of holidays sting any less.

So, even York didn’t know what he was sowing the seeds of when he leaned against the glass to watch Sidewinder rise into view as the MOI descended.

The man gave a low whistle. “Would you look at that,” he marveled, not even looking at his fellow Freelancers. He’d roused a few of them from their bunks to enjoy the view with him. The whispered grumble from the back of the room could have been the sound of the ship’s landing gear, or South dozing off against the wall.

York dragged his gaze from the shining white planet surface to zero in on Carolina. She was doing her best to humor him, standing a few paces back, arms crossed. Nobody would ever have the guts to call her out, but a faint smile drifted across her face as snowflakes rushed the window like stars.

York gestured with his head towards the view. “Come on, look.”

It took some time, but eventually everyone became absorbed in the pine dotted, icy landscape stretched out below. York took in the sight of his fellow Freelancers and grinned.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.”

It took mere hours for the Sidewinder Christmas idea to take hold. Few could remember the last time they’d actually stopped to celebrate the holiday. Or any holiday. Being at war with an alien race tended to put such things on hold. Sidewinder, with its thick blanket of snow and icicle decorated pine trees, was the perfect setting for an impromptu Christmas.

There was only one minor hang up.

This landing was for the purpose of replenishing supplies and refueling. The MOI would be on its way in two days tops. And that meant no shore leave. The Freelancers and crew were to continue with their duties without interruption. Those were the rules.

Technically, though, they hadn’t been barred from leaving the ship for other reasons. Training reasons. That happened to take them outside the ship. And also to the nearest town.

All of the Freelancer’s schedules had already changed to include long blocks of ‘Team Stealth Training,’ before anyone could do anything about it.

\---

Wash and Connie knew the reasoning behind this trip was bullshit. The others knew it too. They were all likely to be reprimanded after this little escapade and could look forward to long hours in the training room as punishment. Wash and Connie knew they weren’t to leave the ship.

They also knew not a single crewmember of the MOI would dare remind Agent Maine of what he could and could not do.

The three’s escape from the ship was far from stealthy. But it was time efficient. All Wash and Connie had to do was keep straight faced and not choke laughing as they following Maine down the corridors of the ship. The giant was doing his best someone’s-going-to-die-today-and-I’m-not-picky march, crashing footfalls echoing ahead of him like an alarm system. It helpfully reminded crew members they had something extremely important to take care of on the opposite side of the ship. Those who didn’t get the memo became temporarily entranced by their clipboard or data pad as the trio passed.

By the time they hit the last sealed door, Connie was about to crack. She clamped a hand over her mouth as Maine loomed over the guard. The hulking agent made no attempt to communicate with the man staring up at him the way a mouse would gape at a cat. A ripped cat, three times the size of a normal cat. Connie snorted. Wash elbowed her and bit his lip. His shoulders twitched with silent laughter.

It was stupid. Even if they made a scene right here, they would still get through. It was just way more fun like this.

Maine drew out a long, bone chilling growl. It wasn’t one that meant something. They always meant something – especially to Connie and Wash. No, this one was literally just Maine growling for the sake of being down right fucking terrifying.

It worked. The crewmember slammed his hand against the print reading lock. He had to slap it a few times to make it work, since he still had his eyes locked on Agent Maine. The door opened with a whoosh, chilly air rushing into the ship’s meticulously regulated environment.

Maine didn’t give the man another look, just lumbered through the doorway. Wash followed, being propelled forward by Connie who was doing her best to hide her face behind his shoulder. Once through, she gave Washington a sharp push that sent him tripping onto the nearest snowbank.

The door hadn’t even closed all the way before they lost it.

Connie all but cackled, doubled over, laughing so hard she had to grab onto Maine to stay upright. Even so, she sunk to sit heavily in the snow, pounding a fist into the powder as her eyes filled with tears. Above her, she could hear Maine’s chuckle – a thick, stuttering grunt that could hardly be called laughter, but that's exactly what it was. And they knew it.

Wash was slow to roll over on the snowbank, but when he did, it was because he was wheezing just as hard as they were. He rolled back and forth, head thrown back and his eyes shut tight as he shook with laughter.

“That,” he gasped, propping himself up on his elbows. Clumps of snow slipped from his hair. He shook his head like a dog, sending flakes flying. “That,” he tried again, sitting up, “was the worst plan ever. Of all ti-IME!”

The rookie Freelancer rolled free of the spray of powdered snow Connie sent his direction with a sweep of her arm. She snickered as he landed on his feet, stance ready for another attack. But Connie lifted her hands in surrender.

“It’s hardly the worst plan,” Connie chided.

Maine snorted, shrugging and rolling his eyes to the landscape. It had worked, hadn’t it?

“Exactly,” Connie agreed, “the worst plan at least has to be a failed one. This can be… the second or third.”

“So true,” Wash conceded. He crouched down to bury his hand in the snow, testing its packing ability. “Gotta leave slots open for more quality failures.”

Connie followed Wash’s example and began building up a thick ball. Once it was the size of a volleyball, she hauled herself to her feet and rolled it through the fresh snowfall as fast as she could - looking for all the world like an energetic child rushing to squeeze in as much play time as possible.

“I wanna make a snowman,” the agent asserted. There was a fresh layer of snow atop the icy surface of the planet. Connie’s snowball ballooned in size within a few rolls. Still, she hadn’t slowed down. Compared to the weight she usually bench pressed? This was nothing.

“Isn’t that like… leaving evidence?” Wash pointed out. But he was already mimicking her by rolling his own snowball.

Maine snorted. They had never expected to pull one on the Director. If he didn’t know about this already, he would soon.

Wash smirked, wiping melting snow from his hair. “Go big or go home, right?”

Maine gave a deep hum of agreement, trudging through the snow towards Connie, each step a satisfying crunch. The hulking agent joined her in rolling the snowball that threatened to outgrow her.

Connie let loose a breathy laugh. “I want to make it so big the Director can see it from his office.”

Maine shot her an inquiring look, barely turning his head from their work.

Connie shook out her hair, rapidly becoming damp in the snowfall. She threw both Maine and Wash a crooked smile. “Nothing will irk him more than the sight of his impressive battleship with a dumpy snowman sitting next to it. Kinda throws off the vibe.”

“You have no faith in our snowman building abilities,” Wash lamented. He stood leaning against his snowball which was just under chest height. He pointed at his creation. “Middle part?”

Maine sent him a thumbs up and went back to heaving Connie’s massive ball through the snow. She and the giant made time with one another, using their combined force to roll the heavy snow just a few feet at a time. A short distance away, Wash began work on their snowman’s head.

It wasn’t long before the gargantuan snowball rolled to a halt. Maine and Connie shared a look, each sizing up the product of their efforts. Eventually, Maine patted the ball and nodded.

“Good size,” Connie agreed. The massive sphere was practically her height.

“Next up!” Wash announced, rolling his medium sized snowball past them until it nudged the larger.

It was a group effort, lifting the cumbersome ball. Once raised high, the three struggled to set the load squarely atop the base. It was quite a balancing act, but finally the middle of their snowman  came to a rest. Their celebration, however, was cut short as they stood back to inspect their work.

“This is going to be fun,” Wash predicted, hands on his hips, head tilted back as he took in just how tall their creation stood.

\--

There was something utterly absurd about the scene.

Maybe it was the comically oversized snowman. Maybe it was, as Connie pointed out, the snowman sitting in the shadow of a looming battleship armed with enough destructive power to take out half a planet.

Maybe, Maine thought, just maybe, it was the three special ops agents strategizing how to best place the head on the previously mentioned oversized snowman.

Maine eyed Wash as the rookie Freelancer clambered up the side of their creation, feet planted atop the base. He gripped the middle snowball to stay balanced, but Maine raised an eyebrow as it wobbled.

“How’s the weather up there?” Connie called.

Wash stretched out to stand on his tiptoes and leaned over the snowball, surveying his view of the snow swept landscape, trees standing out like ink blots on a white page. Making a show of shielding his eyes to stare down at them, the Freelancer cracked a grin.

“This must be how Maine feels all the time,” he mused. He feigned nonchalance and rested against the ball, folding his arms over the top. “How’s it feel to be short?”

Maine could practically hear Connie roll her eyes. “Are you asking for a two on one match in the training room?”

“Wow, somebody’s touchy about height.”

A smirk pulled at the corners of Maine’s mouth. Bending down a bit, he tapped Connie on the shoulder and gave a conspiratorial grunt.

Connie’s face broke out in a wicked grin. With the ease of practice, she hopped onto her hulking teammate’s back and swung herself up to sit on his shoulders.

“How’s it feel to be average height?” Connie countered back at the rookie. With Maine standing at full height, she and Wash were almost level. Wash shrugged.

“Eh, was fun while it lasted.”

Careful to keep Connie balanced, Maine stooped to pick up the final piece to their snowman. He passed it up to Connie who hugged it tight to her chest. From there, she and Wash set the head snuggly atop their creation.

Maine backed up a few paces to inspect the final product with Connie. After a moment’s consideration, he gave a pleased grumble and looked up at his rider for a second opinion. Leaning out over his head to meet his eye, she grinned, hair dangling in both their faces.

“And the judges say…?” Wash inquired, still practically hugging the snowman to stay balanced.

Maine growled with confidence. Everything looked good.

Humming contently, Wash dropped to the ground, snow crunching under his boots.

Connie was already sliding off Maine’s back. “Now for the face,” she announced.

The scattered pine trees dotting the white expanse of ice and snow provided the perfect materials. It wasn’t long before their collected sticks and pine cones had been sorted through, and each facial feature selected with care.

This time it was Wash who leapfrogged on to Maine’s shoulders. Below, Connie passed each item up for Wash to set in place. Pinecones for eyes, twigs for a grin, and a sprig of pine needles for the nose.

As soon as they’d finished, Maine was scooping Connie up into his arms, and walked all three of them a few paces back. The massive soldier grunted. The snowman didn’t look half bad.

“Not too shabby,” Wash tacked on. He reached down a hand for each of the Freelancers to high five and they obliged.

Connie wiggled out of Maine’s arms to plop down in a patch of fresh snow.

“Making a snow angel?” Wash folded his arms to rest atop Maine’s head as the towering soldier gave a rumbling chuckle.

“It only seems fitting,” Connie replied, spreading her arms and legs back and forth, staring up at the white-gray sky. A smirk ghosted across her face. “Gotta squeeze in all the Christmas traditions we can.”

Wash nodded, following her gaze to the dense cloud cover overhead. The way it stretched out to each hazy horizon made seem like they were standing in a gigantic snow globe.

The rookie Freelancer gave a small huff of laughter, breath clouding in front of his face for barely a moment before being swept away. “Somebody’s bound to bring eggnog or something equally festive back from town.”

Maine growled. They’d better at least get candy canes.

Wash nodded. “We can radio when we get back and remind them.” The Freelancer opened his mouth to ask Connie what she wanted, but he was forced to duck a snowball whizzing by his head.

“Oh-ho, you really wanna start this fight?” Wash taunted, grinning. He held on to Maine as the man circled Connie. She was already aiming another snowball. Wash tensed, ready to dodge another attack. “Its two on one.”

“Ooh, you’re right. Should we ask someone else to join your team?”

“That’s it,” Wash proclaimed, patting his teammate on the shoulder. “Maine, snowballs, snowballs.” The hulking soldier was already passing ammo to his impatient rider.

The pair might have had a size advantage along with two sets of eyes, but Connie had mobility on her side. There were limits to Wash’s dodging abilities while perched on Maine’s shoulders, so it wasn’t long before Connie hit him smack in the chest. Snow sprayed over the paired Freelancers.

The next shot Wash was lucky enough to catch. He stopped short of throwing it straight back, instead looking down at his teammate.

“Alright, Maine, we gotta switch tactics.” He bit his lip to hide an evil grin. “And sorry, but this is kinda too perfect to pass up.”

Maine let loose a a startled grunt as the rookie smashed the snowball over the hulking Freelancer’s head.

Spinning around, Maine sent Wash flying into the nearest snowdrift. Connie let out a burst of laughter, snowballs tumbling to the ground forgotten.

Maine wasn’t done though. Before the young Freelancer could stand up, his teammate collected a massive load of snow in his arms and dumped it on a sputtering Wash.

Connie snorted as Wash sat up, wiping snow from his eyes and hair. “I’m pretty sure your alliance just fell through.”

The resulting free for all of speeding snowballs and impressive dodges carried on until all three were soaking wet and panting. Maine dropped to the ground, laying back in the snow. Wash and Connie were soon to join him, plopping down on either side of the giant.

A quiet descended, broken only by the sounds of their own breathing, as the three stared up into the clouds. Snow had the wondrous effect of silencing the world. Flurries danced in the soundless breeze, spiraling down to land on their faces and damp hair.

Down here, with no stars visible, space felt very far away.

Down here, no matter what earth’s distant sun might dictate,

It was Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr at [ wordsysayswords](http://wordsysayswords.tumblr.com/)


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